


A Thousand Love Languages for You

by FreeGrain



Category: Warrior Nun (TV)
Genre: F/F, Internalized Homophobia, Love Confessions, Mild Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-09
Updated: 2020-07-09
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:15:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25156849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FreeGrain/pseuds/FreeGrain
Summary: Beatrice can no longer pretend she doesn't feel something for Ava but even then, she can't tell her. So she sticks for the next best thing. Telling her in many different languages—all of which Ava cannot understand.{Avatrice}{Ava x Beatrice}
Relationships: Sister Beatrice/Ava Silva
Comments: 77
Kudos: 1102





	A Thousand Love Languages for You

**Author's Note:**

> So yes, I did just write a fanfic of my own [promptr](https://the-demons-behind-your-smile.tumblr.com/post/623079918458322944/im-imagining-beatrice-confessing-to-ava-in) after I posted it because hey, what else was I going to do?
> 
> *Also should be noted that this is an AU where Ava joined and is training with the OCS

"Have you found anything?" 

Beatrice glanced up to see Ava enter the room and plop into the armchair next to her. 

Her skin glistened from slight sweat she'd worked up training with the others. Her cheeks flushed, lips parted as she inhaled a little quicker than normal. With her hair tied back and her workout clothes, she looked positively radiant. 

Beatrice looked respectfully back down at the book. 

"No. Nothing yet." 

Ava got up and sat down next to her, arm brushing off her. Beatrice was sure she didn't notice but _she_ definitely did. She noticed everything Ava did. 

From the curious glances she had everywhere in the convent to the way her fingers sought out sensations. A brush of the hand along a tapestry. Ava had forgotten the sensation of touch and looked for it at every opportunity. 

"What language even is this?" Ava frowned, squinting down at the entry she was on. 

"It's Russian." 

"You know Russian?" 

"Well. Enough to read accurately." 

One of the languages she wasn't 100% fluent in but knew enough to read and hold a conversation. Luckily for her, the Warrior Nuns rarely used fancy proses for their tales, making it easier to read what happened. 

"Wow." Ava did sound actually awed. "That's so cool. You know like every language." 

"That's quite an exaggeration."

"Oh no, come on!" Ava reached over and flicked through the book. "You've read French, German, Chinese, whatever this is-" 

"Tagalog." 

"-right. And Spanish, Thai- like everything!" 

As Ava moved, her fingers brushed the back of Beatrice's hand. Again, a movement she was sure Ava didn't notice or mean but Beatrice felt everything. 

Leaning against her clothed arm was one thing but skin on skin, her mind might have short circuited. 

"How come?" 

"Pardon?"

"How come you know so many languages?" 

Beatrice's mind flashed back to hours spent in the school library, pushing herself to learn in hope that if she became the best, maybe her parents would see past the worst parts of her. She tried everything. Languages were only a fraction. From sports to grades, to repressing her emotions deep down. She tried so hard to please them. 

And for nothing. 

It hadn't mattered. 

"Beatrice?" 

Beatrice jumped, hands tightening on the book. "Sorry. I… I studied a lot. Learned a lot. Nothing else." 

It came off sharper than she'd meant. 

"Um, that's cool," Ava said awkwardly. 

Beatrice knew she'd screwed up but she tried to smile anyway, play it off like she was okay. 

Ava blinked once and then touched her hand and _again_ , an electric sensation that hurt right in her chest. "I think it's great you know so much. Compared to me who never went to middle school." 

She said it as a joke like Ava always did but Beatrice caught the wistful tones. So many years she'd lost to those hateful bitches who called themselves nuns. They were a shame to the God they swore to follow. 

"I think you're pretty," Beatrice said. 

Ava's eyebrow flexed and then Beatrice realised she'd missed a word. 

"Pretty great. Yes, you are _pretty great_." She coughed and looked away. "You don't need to know things to be great." 

Ava's hand tightened on hers. 

"And as always, you know what to say. Careful. If you're too perfect, I might fall in love with you," Ava winked. 

_If only_. 

Beatrice could dream. 

But instead she smiled and gave a half hearted chuckle. 

"Anyway, I just wanted to check in, see what was going on, but hey! You are fine. Or, em, _doing_ fine." And Ava let go of her hand. "Mary will kick my butt if I don't come back from my break. Or she'll kick my butt anyway. But you know, less butt kicking would be nice." 

That one did earn a proper chuckle from Beatrice. 

"Language. This is still a church." 

"Sure… because God definitely approves of combat training on the altar." Ava cut her off before she could point out it wasn't actually on the altar but before it. "You're right! I know!" She chuckled. "Anyway. See you later!" 

And Beatrice watched her go, cursing every sinking feeling within her now. Why was she like this? Why had she fallen? 

She'd tried too hard to change this part of herself. And every attempt had failed. 

She sighed and turned back to the book. The entry Ava had turned to had been Sister Melanie's. What wicked cruel irony. 

Beatrice turned the page and kept searching. 

* * *

It started off small.

Just a sentence of a few words. 

_Oh, my darling, I think I adore you._

Beatrice kept the words slightly abstract, knowing that of the random phrases people knew from other languages, "I love you" was the most common. 

She said it after dinner, when she and Ava sat on the steps and talked about their days. Ava trained every minute—sometimes even with Beatrice herself. But Lilith usually took over that area, seeing as she'd trained for the job her whole life. 

"What language is that?" Ava asked. 

"Vietnamese." 

"Nice. What does it mean?" 

A confession, a revelation of feelings that Beatrice could no longer deny. She couldn't hold it in. 

Beatrice smiled sadly. "It's nothing. Just a small prayer of good luck." 

"Oh. Thank you," Ava beamed to herself, blissfully unaware of what she truly wanted to say. "Personally, I think I'm _killing_ it. And by it, I mean those demons!" 

"You are doing well," Beatrice admitted. 

Beatrice often oversaw the newer recruits when they first joined. Even if Ava hadn't been the Warrior Nun, she would have proven to be one of the best newbies. 

"Hell right I am. High five!"

"What?"

"Oh, come on, high five me!"

Beatrice didn't think she'd ever high fived someone before. She'd seen other girls do it in the playground with their friends. She'd never had any friends. And nuns didn't exactly go around high fiving each other. 

But Beatrice raised her hand and cautiously hit it off Ava. 

"Weak but okay, I'll take it." 

Beatrice's eyebrows furrowed. "Weak?" 

"Well usually you'd hit like this-" Ava clapped her hand together, the noise echoing through the church. "-oops. But anyway, like- hard!" 

"Like this?" 

Beatrice hit Ava's hand again, a lot harder than last time. 

"Shit! Ow, Bea!" 

"You said hard." 

"Not that hard!" Ava whined. 

*Hm. Guess you'll have to teach me then." 

Ava laughed and nudged her with her shoulder. "You are so funny." 

Beatrice looked down at the ground. _Funny_? That was a new one. 

But there'd been a lot of new things with Ava. With her different view from the sisters and her difficult past, Ava brought a whole new world to her. 

And Beatrice didn't mind new. 

* * *

"Where is it?!" 

Ava ran alongside her, pointing off down an alleyway. "He ran down there!" 

A wraith demon evaded them, surely noticing the dangerous aura of the Halo following it. He'd bolted when they descended and now they followed, refusing to let him go free. 

"Let's go!" 

The others had split off earlier in hopes of cutting it off. 

Ava was a good runner—a fact she hadn't realised before. But her slim build and strong legs gave her a good stride that Beatrice could admire for very reasonable, non-homosexual reasons. 

"Head him off that way!" Beatrice shouted. "It's a dead end." 

The Halo glowed in response, sending a large bin skittering into the demon's path. He jerked back and stumbled, just managing to avoid it. And veered sideways. 

"Gotcha," Ava grinned, drawing her sword. 

It glowed a bright blue in her presence, lighting up the dim alleyway and the demon in front of them. He skidded to a halt by the wall. He had nowhere else to go. 

Beatrice couldn't see it but she knew red curled off in smoke like wisps. 

"You want some of this?" Ava grinned. 

The demon glowered in their direction, his gaze focusing on her. His hands tensed. 

"Ava-" 

"Want some of this hot glowing sword, baby? You know you do! It's right and ready-!" 

Without warning, the demon let out a howl and lunged. 

"Ava!" 

Beatrice struck her with her shoulder, taking the demon right to the chest. Though still a man, he packed quite the punch. 

"Beatrice!" 

Beatrice kicked out and sent him flying into the wall. Ouch. 

Ava quickly returned to her side. 

"Remember your training," Beatrice warned. "Always be alert." 

"Right. Absolutely." Ava nodded confidently. "Gotta make Mary proud." 

"Not Lilith?" 

"Nah. I don't think she can be proud of anything but herself." 

The demon lurched towards them but this time they were both ready. 

They dove separate ways and attacked from the side. 

Ava punched him in the gut. Beatrice swept his legs from under him. A nicely aimed kick, Ava striking him with the hilt of her sword, he shrieked and backed away. 

While beating innocent humans wasn't her favourite activity it was a necessary act. To drive the demon from him. 

Beatrice caught him in the throat with her forearm and shoved, crushing him back against the alley wall. He shrieked and howled but she held firm. 

"Is it out?" Beatrice gasped, pressing harder on his throat. 

Ava raised the sword. "Almost!" 

Ava struck what seemed like thin air but what she knew to be a demon. 

And like that, the fight left him. His eyes rolled back in his head and he sagged against her. 

Beatrice released the man. 

"Nice work." 

"Thanks. I try." 

Despite the chase and the fight, Ava practically glowed. 

"What do we do with him?" 

"He will be fine. Probably thinks he got too drunk and ended up passing out." 

"Cool. Yeah. Funky." 

Beatrice arched an eyebrow at her. 

"Sorry, I'm just super pumped now." Ava slid the sword back into her sheathe. "Like that was such a rush!" 

Beatrice remembered her early years in the OCS. Each mission had been a thrill, a hunt, a push for good. Now that thrill had died down but the sentiment still remained. 

"You know, you didn't have to shove me out of the way," Ava said. "I mean I can phase through pretty much anything. And I heal super quickly." 

Right. Warrior Nun. Beatrice hadn't thought of that when she jumped to protect her. Her only thoughts had been for her safety. 

"Instinct," Beatrice said, casually. "For the others." 

"I guess. Thanks though." 

Maybe it was the fading rush of adrenaline. Maybe it was Ava's warm smile. Maybe Beatrice was just stupid and in love. 

But then she spoke, breathing her true feelings in one hurried breath. 

_I think I'm falling for you. For your smile is the most beautiful thing I've ever seen._

Ava lifted her brows. "What language is that?" 

"Polish." 

"Huh… and what did you say?" 

"A quick prayer for the future." 

*Like a wish?" 

"You could say that." 

"You're going to have to teach me someday. Maybe not Polish but something else." Ava scratched her chin thoughtfully. "Always liked the idea of German." 

One word flashed across her mind. _Lesbich_. Somehow they always wound up back here, didn't they? 

"If… if you'd like." 

She'd never taught someone else languages, though she'd offered. No one wanted her help when they heard the rumours. 

"Guys?" Camila appeared with Lilith beside her. "Oh, you got him. Good." 

“Didn’t cause too much trouble, did he?” Lilith asked, glancing at the man, blearily looking around. 

“Nah. Nothing we couldn’t handle.” Ava flexed her arms and grinned. 

Lilith didn't react. “Good. Let’s regroup with the others, unless you see another?” 

Ava shook her head. “No, we’re all clear.” 

Lilith jerked her head and they started walking back to the others. 

* * *

And continued like that. 

After missions, after training sessions, anytime late in the evening, she’d whisper some words of love to Ava that she could never understand. 

_A prayer_ , she replied every time. _For gratitude, for hope, for wisdom._

For anything but the truth. 

Beatrice wasn't sure why she did it but it quickly became a habit. 

She cycled through every language she knew and then again, going in a twisted circle of lies and yearning. Always the same message that Ava would never hear. Because she was too much of a coward to be honest. 

"How many languages do you know?" Ava asked, head on her lap after training. 

"I never counted. A lot. I suppose." 

Ava's eyes flicked up to her. "That's ridiculous. Are you not curious?" 

About how many hours she wasted trying to earn approval? Not particularly. She didn't use most of the languages anyway so her knowledge was rusty. She didn't think they counted anymore. 

"No." 

"Huh. Fair enough, I guess." 

"Aren't you two cosy?" Mary appeared in the side of her view. "Come on. There's been a disturbance downtown." 

Ava sat up quickly. "On it." 

Over the past few weeks she'd grown into her role as Warrior Nun. She no longer groaned at the thought of physical strain or interrupting her schedule. Beatrice was proud of her. 

"I think I'll sit this one out," Beatrice shrugged. "You can handle it on your own." 

"Right. Yeah, um. Let's go." 

Mary shot her a look but Beatrice didn't acknowledge it. 

As Ava and Mary walked away, Beatrice sighed. 

Even after so long, her feelings hadn't gone away. In fact, they'd amplified. It was annoying really, to no longer have control over her heart rate or thoughts. Ava had no idea the effect she had over her. 

Beatrice looked over the walls to the fading sun, wondering why she was like this. Hadn't she suffered enough? 

"A penny for your thoughts, sister?" Vincent stood in the doorway, looking at her. 

Beatrice cleared her throat and rose to her feet. "Ava and Mary are on a mission in town."

"And you?" 

"Decided to take a break." Beatrice pushed past him inside, fully aware of how rude she was being but she didn't want to talk about it. 

"Sister Beatrice?"

"I'm sorry, forgive me, Father." Beatrice turned and smiled. "I am… thinking." 

"Of what?"

"Things."

"Don't let it worry you too much," Vincent said and touched her shoulder. "Whatever it is, I believe you will push through it." 

If only it was a problem one could just push through. But the feelings in her heart wouldn't go away so easily. 

Beatrice sighed and forced a fake smile. "Thanks." 

* * *

"Come on, hit me with your best shot!" Ava taunted. 

"I don't think you're ready for that." 

"I… it's a song. I definitely don't want you to hit me hard. But-" Ava raised her fists defensively. "I can take you." 

Beatrice paused. The sun crossed the sky, ready to set in perhaps an hour's time so the light hit Ava at a slant. She looked beautiful at this time. The hard glint in her eyes, the slight curve of her mouth—she could have studied her face for hours. 

Suddenly Ava swung at her. 

Caught off guard, Beatrice only managed to block. 

"Almost got you!" Ava beamed. 

Beatrice chuckled and blocked her next strike. "Almost isn't enough." 

In a whirl of movements, Beatrice swept low and caught her ankle. Ava shrieked as she dropped her to the mat. 

Ava kicked out at her but Beatrice sidestepped, catching her in the ribs this time. 

"Okay! Okay! I surrender!" Ava held her hands up. 

"You're getting better," Beatrice chuckled and offered her a hand. 

"Yeah… not good enough." Ava grabbed her hand and pulled herself into a standing position. 

"I wouldn't worry about that. It takes time. Years of training. Years you don't have." 

"Haha, yeah." Ava rubbed the back of her neck. "Could do without getting my ass kicked by literally everyone." 

"Language." 

"You give out to me for saying butt! Come on!" 

"You could just use a different phrase." 

"Ah. But it doesn't quite hit the same." Ava rubbed her side. 

"Sorry about that." 

"Nah, it's fine. Warrior Nun health will take care of that nicely." Ava stretched, revealing a thin strip of skin between the waist of her pants and her shirt. 

And Beatrice had to look away. 

"Let's go for dinner. The others will be inside." 

Ava stretched as they walked, jaws stretching in a yawn. They'd been training her hard, trying to prepare her for the hardships to come. Warrior Nuns often died young. Beatrice was determined to break the cycle. 

"Hey! Over here!" Camila eagerly waved a hand. "We saved you a seat." 

Camila sat with Mary and Lilith, two extra seats open next to them. Beatrice placed her tray on the table and sat down. 

"You gonna say your prayer?" Ava asked when she sat down next to her. 

"Excuse me?" 

Ava waved her fork around. "You know. Your prayer. You always say one after training." 

"Oh. Yes. That." 

She usually didn't say it around the others for fear they might understand her. She knew that Lilith knew other languages beside their own. 

"You can bless our meal," Camila said energetically. 

With no other option, Beatrice shrugged. "Of course. I'd love to." 

Lilith exchanged a curious look with Mary but both put down their forks as she clasped her hands. Beatrice often thought of what to say before but she'd gotten distracted. This one would come from the heart. 

_My angel, I think you're so beautiful, it makes my heart stop. You may never know how I feel but know that I yearn for you._

Beatrice smiled and started eating. 

It took a few seconds for her to realise no one else was eating. 

"What?"

Again silence. They stared at her and Beatrice wondered what she'd done wrong. 

Lilith cleared her throat. "Bea- Beatrice. You do know we can all speak Spanish." 

Spanish? No. Wait. She did not. 

Beatrice dropped her fork. 

No. No. _No_. 

She looked at them all; at Camila's confused expression, at Mary's cocked eyebrow, at Lilith's worried eyes. 

And then finally at Ava. 

Ava froze completely, her fork hand halfway to her mouth when she stared at her in shock. Those beautiful eyes held nothing but surprise. 

_No_. 

Beatrice pushed out her chair. "I… sorry." She didn't want them to say anything, didn't want to hear what they wanted to ask her. 

And then she was running through the corridors, wishing herself anywhere but here. Away from the dining area, Cat's Cradle, away from Spain—away from her feelings. 

"Sister-?" 

Beatrice shoved past the sister, not caring when she stumbled. 

"Do not talk to me," she snapped. 

She didn't stop moving until she reached her room. Beatrice slammed the door shut behind her. Like a barrier against the world, she settled in her space. This was her own space and where she was safe from the outside. She paced across to the window. The sun had started setting. 

She'd screwed up. She'd screwed up big time. 

How didn't she notice she was speaking Spanish? What sort of stupid mistake was that? She was an idiot. She'd ruined anything good she'd hope to build with Ava. 

She'd ruined it. 

"Why?" she breathed. "Why?!" 

Beatrice spun and punched the wall next to her. It hurt, would bruise her knuckles for the next few days. But it hurt so good. 

"Goddamnit!" 

How many years had it been since she'd sworn like that but it escaped from her lips in rage. Rage at herself. She was an idiot. She should have just kept her mouth shut. 

Beatrice stepped away from the wall, touching her knuckles. But no physical people would ever hurt as much the clenching of her heart. There was a reason she'd closed her heart off like that. How could she have forgetton? And just chased all sense from her brain and caused her to do stupid things. 

"Beatrice?" 

Beatrice's heart jumped in her chest. No. But it was her voice. 

"Come in." 

The door opened slowly and Ava peered in. Her expression was cautious, worried. 

"Hey." 

What could Beatrice say to her now? Why had she come? Did she have any hope of salvaging what they'd once had? 

"Hey."

Ava closed the door behind her, pressing her back against it. "I think we need to talk." 

She knew it was coming. She'd have to explain herself in a way she'd never dreamed. 

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to… I didn't mean to put you in that position." 

"To be fair, you could have been talking to anyone at the table," Ava shrugged. 

And yet everyone knew exactly who it'd been directed at. She saw Mary's eyes dart between them. She saw that the others didn't worry she spoke for them. They'd known. 

Beatrice nodded, not trusting herself to speak. 

"So… um, have you been… I dunno, like saying that to me all the time? Like your prayers? Were they to me?" 

"Confessions." 

"Huh?" 

"Call them what they are. Confessions."

Ava blinked. Processing. And then a weird smile. 

"So you like me then?" 

A terrible twist in her heart and Beatrice wanted to sob. She'd never said it like that before. It sounded so mundane but it hit the hardest. 

"Yes." 

"And you told me in many different languages?" 

"You were never meant to know." 

She'd been so careful in speaking to avoid words that sounded like English or Spanish, for care she'd recognise them. How had she slipped up so badly? 

Ava sat down on her bed and pressed a hand to her head in disbelief. "That is like so cool."

"Excuse me?" 

"Possibly the most romantic thing anyone's ever done. I mean I would have liked to know but I guess it's the mystery that's romantic, you know?" Ava gestured into the air. "Like you're telling me right to my face, but I have no idea? Like damn!" 

Beatrice felt as though she'd missed something. So she said nothing and waited. 

"I didn't think you had it in you, Bea. But that's literally so sweet." 

"You… aren't mad?" 

"Mad?" Ava squinted at her. "Oh. Shit. Um, missed a step." 

Ava cleared her throat. "AHEM. I like you too." 

"What?" 

Ava bounced to her feet. "I mean, I'll say it again. I like you too, Beatrice." When she said nothing, she fingergunned for emphasis. 

And like that the world spun under her. The carpet had been pulled from under her and now she fell freely. Beatrice's mouth opened and then closed again. 

"Do you need a minute? I get it, I mean-" Ava grinned. "I am me." 

"You are you," Beatrice echoed. She slowly sat down on the bed, worried she'd fall if she remained standing. 

Ava sat down next to her. "Why didn't you say something earlier?"

Fear. Not wanting to mess up their friendship. The deep hatred people forced into her and she couldn't escape. 

"My parents cared a lot about image. They wanted to be perfect. I didn't quite fit that image." How old had she been when they sent her away to pretend they didn't have a daughter? "That part of me is wrong. I began to hate it. And I never allowed myself to listen to it."

To feel and love in the way she did. 

Until Ava broke away every wall she'd built up. 

Ava nudged her shoulder in the same way she always did but it held a different feeling this time. 

"It can be scary, I know. But no part of you is wrong. Every part of you is beautiful. And even if you weren't, it wouldn't matter. Because what you are is _you_. And you are wondrous."

Ava liked to joke around at the wrong times but this wasn't one of them. Every single word rang sincere. 

"Do you really believe that?" 

"Yes. With my whole heart." 

Beatrice inhaled shakily. Her own heart raced a thousand miles, threatening to burst out of her heart in desperation. 

"Hey." Ava touched the back of her hand lightly with her fingertips. "Take your time. We have all the time in the world." 

"Thank you." A steady breath. "I'm okay now."

"No, you aren't. But I appreciate you for trying." Ava squeezed her hand. 

Gentle. In the time she'd known Ava, Beatrice couldn't remember a time when she'd have called her gentle. Intense, reckless, honest, kind, beautiful. But never gentle. 

But sitting in her room as she processed what just happened, Ava was gentle. And Beatrice loved it. 

"If you're up for it, we can return to dinner? The others were worried about you."

"What will we tell them?"

"Nothing," Ava said simply. "If you don't want to." She lifted her hand to her mouth and kissed the back of her hand. "I'm here with you, anyway. So you don't have to be afraid." 

" _Me encantas_." 

Ava chuckled. "I understand that. Same, Bea." 

Beatrice might be giddy from happiness. She couldn't stop smiling. That pain in her heart was replaced by a lovely warmth. Part of her would hold back. But it would last against the power of love. 

"Let's return to dinner," she agreed. 

"You sure?" 

"Positive." 

They left her room at a slow pace, content to just be with one another. Beatrice remembered shoving another sister on her frantic flee to her room and made a mental note to apologise later. 

"You know, later you'll have to tell me what the rest of your "prayers" meant." 

"I'd rather not. That's embarrassing." 

"Nah, I think it's cute." 

"Hm. Do you now?" 

"Hell yeah." 

The dining area was quieter than it had been when she left. But her friends were still at the table. For a second she faltered, fear once again clouding her mind. But then Ava stood next to her and everything was clear. 

Beatrice sat down where she'd abandoned her tray. 

The table went quiet again. They looked to her—though not accusingly. Just asking. 

A silent question: _are you okay?_

And she was. Maybe even better than okay. 

Beatrice cleared her throat. "Don't let me interrupt you." 

"Yeah. Personally I'm starving so-" Ava dug into her food, giving Lilith a friendly dig in the side. "Gotta love church food." 

_I'm okay._

And the others went back to their food, picking up easy conversation. Beatrice joined in. It wasn't awkward. The others knew what she'd said but they didn't ask out of respect. She'd tell them what she meant later. Just not now. Not yet. 

Sometime between finishing eating and teasing Mary about her combat skills, Ava's hand found hers again. A soft squeeze of support. 

That was another language, Beatrice supposed. The language of the physical, how each touch could mean something else. 

It was also a language she didn't understand. 

But she could learn. 

Ava met her eye and smiled. 

And she had a good teacher. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! 💜 Did you enjoy it? Consider leaving a comment to make my day~ 🥰 
> 
> Also stream Warrior Nun on Netflix!


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